Unraveled
by Lapis Love
Summary: She was a gift born under tragic circumstances that are now beginning to haunt her. 18 year old Bonnie Bennett always had the feeling something wasn't quite right about her parents; they were hiding something deep and dark from her. Secretly in love with 25 year old Damon Salvatore, will this be her best Christmas ever, or one to damage her more than she already is? AH/AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Aloha. After much struggle I finally came up with a holiday-themed story though the holidays are more of a prop/backdrop for the overall plot and deals with mature subject matter (and nope for once I'm not talking about smut). This is an AU/AH two-shot gift for my dear friend roplusglam, that hopefully she will love and won't go WTF, Lapis. I've done one edit for this so please excuse any errors, grammar problems etc. I will make changes later. Part II will be up hopefully by the New Year. If you celebrate Christmas—Merry Christmas. If you celebrate Hanukkah—Happy Hanukkah. If you celebrate Kwanza—Happy Kwanza, and if you celebrate nothing at all, Happy Nothing At All. Enjoy! **

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW Network. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

_December 15__th_

Over and over she twirled the ornament in her hand looking between it and the tree deciding where it should go, or if she should keep it in the box with the other ornaments not to be used this time around. This was a ritual of sorts, a deep contemplation as Bonnie was forced to deal with her reality. The reality being, she was eighteen living in a single parent home, and her father…

She had a birth father but having an actual father who came home at night, kissed her mother on the cheek or lips before sitting at the head of the table where they shared dinner as a family—Bonnie didn't have that. Lots of people didn't have that so her situation didn't make her special, but a statistic. And with so many strikes against her already, Bonnie did what she could to remain in the shadows.

However, remaining in the shadows in a small town like Mystic Falls was virtually impossible. This place was a modern day version of Mayberry. Her mom was best friends with the Sheriff whom Bonnie happened to be best friends with the Sheriff's daughter. Her mom worked as the office manager of revered Doctor Grayson Gilbert medial practice, and again, Bonnie was close friends with the doctor's only daughter. She couldn't take one step without someone knowing her and ultimately spreading her business around like wildfire. If she stole a piece of candy, her mom would know the second her key hit the lock.

This place Bonnie called home didn't offer much in the form of variety. Gossip, rumors, and a decent party kept this place turning.

Hell, on the day of her birth the world became topsy-turvy.

Abby Bennett had been extremely tight-lipped as to who the father of her unborn child was. Had he been a drifter who rented out one of the rooms in the Bennett household, and he left behind a token for Abby to take care of without his assistance or interference for the next eighteen plus years? Had she reunited with an old flame from college? Was the man a war veteran who had been called to do another tour abroad? No one had any idea and Abby painstakingly made sure no one would ever discover his identity.

As much as she wanted to keep things hush-hush, life and fate had other plans.

Bonnie had been born prematurely and was extremely ill. The doctors didn't think she would survive and the only thing that could potentially save her life was a bone marrow transplant. Of course the risk of surgery to the infant had to be considered since she was so frail, but Abby had been willing to do or try anything to save her child. Getting pregnant at thirty-six put her in the high-risk category though women well into their forties had had healthy children all the time. Abby didn't think she or her baby would face any real complications or danger.

Genetics said otherwise.

"Perhaps the baby's father might be a match," Dr. Lancer said as he stood at the foot of Abby's hospital bed looking pensive. "We could run a few tests, that is, after getting into contact with him."

Abby had swallowed then and briefly looked to her mother who infinitesimally nodded her head. Sheila Bennett was the _only _person Abby had confided the identity of the father to. Sighing heavily in resignation while closing her eyes in regret, Abby uttered the name visualizing the domino effect that would ensue the second she revealed her secret.

"Contact the mayor."

Dr. Lancer blinked and looked perplexed as if he didn't understand what his patient was saying.

"Contact the mayor? You mean Mayor William Lockwood? He's the father of your child?"

Needless to say, Dr. Lancer turned a bit red in the face having been told the well-liked mayor had been unfaithful to his wife of twenty-three years, and fathered a child with a working class woman…of another race. The doctor tried his best to remain objective and professional, but there was a severe conflict of interest. He and William were golf partners, and Dr. Lancer was even godfather to William's daughters. To learn his best friend had…Dr. Lancer nodded stiffly, turned to leave, but then re-approached the bed.

"I'm sorry, but forgive me, are you absolutely _sure_ Mayor Lockwood is the father? I've known William for years. He would never…be unfaithful to Mildred. There has to be some mistake."

Abby scoffed knowing this was _exactly _what would happen the minute she told the truth. That no one would believe her because the good Mayor could do no wrong. If only they knew. And of course she was a floozie who couldn't keep her legs together. Dr. Lancer might not have said it but he was definitely thinking it. Abby's lip curled in derision as she had to fight back her tears of humiliation.

"Yes! He's the father but he'll probably deny it, just like he'll deny…"

"Abby," Sheila cut her off.

Heeding her mother, Abby calmed herself and penned her doctor with a withering glare, "My child is dying so he _will _do his part and save her life. If you want to do a paternity test to get _that _out of the way, and to prove whether or not your friend for years is a lying piece of shit, help yourself."

Dr. Lancer stiffly nodded again, opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of voicing his opinion. Finally he said, "I'll let you know what the Mayor says and we'll…get the ball rolling. Try to get some rest."

Abby had settled back against her pillows turning her head away from her mother who she knew would lecture her about letting her mouth run away from her. It was bad enough the mayor stepped out on his wife, but what was worse was that the "affair" between Abby and William had not been a mutual endeavor.

"Abby…I know you want the whole world to know what happened and it should know and if I still had my gun…"

"Ma…with all due respect I don't want to talk about him. I don't want to talk about the man who…r-raped me," she swallowed the hot air in her mouth as feelings of repulsion bubbled and crawled over her skin. "I only want to think about my daughter. Let the town label me a whore because you know they will once this gets out. I don't care. The only good thing to come out of what happened to me is Bonnie."

"I understand," Sheila muttered hating the fact there was little she could do for her daughter. That she couldn't protect her though Abby was well over the age to still need her mom to fight her battles. But no woman, regardless of age should ever be violated the way her child had been.

They were quiet for a while before Sheila spoke, "You decided on a name? Bonnie? I think it fits her."

Abby softened, "I think so, too."

Naturally things did not end nicely wrapped with a shiny bow on top. The mayor had been outraged at the allegation he fathered a child outside of his marriage, but nevertheless stormed down to the hospital where he, Abby, and Sheila got into a heated verbal altercation. Hospital security had to be called in to mediate. Reluctantly and after much ass kissing by Dr. Lancer, William agreed to do a paternity test in which the results could be ready in little under an hour.

Abby sat smugly in her bed when the results came back 99.9% positive William was indeed the father to one Bonnie Abigail Bennett. Abby's smugness increased even further when William proved to be a bone marrow match for Bonnie, and she was able to receive a transplant within days of her birth.

For Bonnie's sake, Abby and William came to an agreement he would acknowledge her as his child, put his name on the birth certificate, and help provide for Bonnie financially. He was of course threatened with legal and criminal action should he renege on any part of their agreement that could never become public knowledge.

However, it didn't remain quiet as one of the nurse's from the hospital blabbed about the entire incident. News had spread all over town leaving William no choice but to come clean to what he did omitting a_ huge_ fact.

The Mayor publicly admitted his "mistake", said he apologized to his family, and hoped the town would rally around and support him through "his" tough time. He got his wish instead of being asked to resign, and Abby—just as she suspected was treated like a modern day Bathsheba in that she enticed William and led him astray.

If only they knew.

Abby could have pressed charges, could have come forward and told the truth of what actually happened, but Bonnie was her main concern, and in a town as backwards as Mystic Falls, who would believe her? Who would take her word over the mayor's? Those had been Abby's excuses and reasons for why she remained staunch in her decision not to say anything. Besides, she didn't want to add yet another stigma to her daughter.

However that night, the night of Bonnie's conception was never far from her thoughts.

And it was never far from Bonnie's either. She knew the former mayor was her father, had spent a couple of holidays sporadically through the years with him, but she didn't know the ugly, stomach-churning truth of how exactly she came to be.

Bonnie hadn't been spoon fed any fantasies about her parents being desperately in love despite the fact William had been married with children of his own. Bonnie was fairly certain her mother hated her father down to the root of her soul and with every fiber of her being. Tension reigned supreme when William would drop by without warning to do his monthly inspection. Abby would get missing leaving Bonnie to fill him in on everything that had taken place since his last visit. He would sit there, listen, ask questions, get up, dig in his pocket to take out five hundred dollars, place it in her hand, pinch her cheek, and leave.

He never hugged her. Never said he loved her. Never treated her like a daughter of his flesh, but mostly like an inconvenience he was trying to do the right thing by for appearances sake. Yet Bonnie supposed their relationship was better than nothing.

The holidays spelled a division in Bonnie's life. She didn't know where she belonged, where she fit in. She had a tight-knit circle of friends who came from varying walks of life that when they were together Bonnie wondered how they all managed to get along. But their differences made them work. Best part, they didn't care she was illegitimate. Unlike some other people.

In addition to her friends, Bonnie had the love of her mother and grandmother. But when it came to her father…she just didn't understand why they couldn't be as close as he was to her two half sisters and brother.

She went to school with her half-brother Alex who treated her like she was a ghost. Her two older half-sisters were already in college so Bonnie rarely saw them. She had been reared as an only child but she wasn't an only child.

Approaching footsteps spurred Bonnie to get back into action. She sat down the ornament in her hand—a gift from her paternal grandmother. Ms. Betty was the only Lockwood to go out of her or his way to get to know Bonnie. And Bonnie loved her almost as much as she loved Grams.

"I thought you would have been done with that tree by now," Sheila said and began organizing books on the shelves in the living room. "It'll be Christmas by the time you're finished decorating."

Bonnie knew her grandmother was teasing her, but her words got under her skin regardless. "Sorry I'm taking so long. I only have two arms."

Sheila paused in her straightening up, eyebrow slowly rising to her hairline as she looked at her grandchild. "Excuse me with that attitude. I see Scrooge has come early this year."

"I'm sorry, Grams. I just have a lot on my mind. Dad…he invited me to his Christmas party this year. A first. I haven't told him if I'm going." Bonnie waited for Grams to make a comment and when she didn't Bonnie turned around to face her.

Bonnie could always count on Grams to have something disparaging to say about her father that would make the devil's lips tremble before bursting out into tears.

"What?" Sheila retorted.

"You don't have anything to say about me going to my dad's party?"

"You're eighteen, Bonnie. You're old enough to decide how and in what way you want to spend your time. Personally, I don't think you should go 'cause I'm sure some not so open-minded people will be there. People who love to talk about things that happened in the past that should stay in the past."

"You mean the fact the former mayor cheated on his wife and had a baby with his black mistress?"

"Let's get the facts straight. Your mama wasn't his mistress."

Bonnie rolled her eyes knowing it was a cardinal sin to do so before Grams. "Oh, sorry. Girlfriend, then," her tone was cutting and flippant.

Sheila sighed and bit her tongue to keep herself from exposing the truth. Bonnie didn't need to know, and it wouldn't serve any purpose anyways.

"Little girl why are you trying my patience today? The decision is yours to make. He's _your_ father and wants you around. Whether or not you should be there only you can decide that."

"Grams?" Bonnie halted speaking until she had her grandmother's undivided attention. "Why have you never liked my dad? Is it because he and my mom had an affair? He had to have…cared about her, right?"

Sheila nibbled her lip. Abby was at the store running last minute errands before her date with that pharmaceutical rep Rudy Hopkins, so Sheila felt it safe to shed a tiny little light on Bonnie's preconceived notion about her parents. It had been a long time coming and something like that couldn't remain secret for long. Though it wasn't exactly Sheila's secret to tell.

"Baby…I can't speak on how your parents felt about each other…if they felt anything for one another at all," Sheila swallowed the lump in her throat that tasted like a lie. "I don't like your father because…he's done some foul, _evil_ things, things he's never been held accountable for. He doesn't deserve a daughter like you, but you're his child and there's nothing to be done to change that. All that matters is your relationship with him."

Evil? What had he done?

"That's just the thing," the teen lamented and sat down on the coffee table. "I don't have a relationship with him. We see each other enough, I tell him things, but he doesn't tell me anything about himself. I have no idea who he is other than the articles I've read about him in the paper. I'm afraid if I ask questions he'll stop wanting to see me. Since I was about…maybe ten or so I felt like he was hiding something from me. Him _and_ mom. I just want to know what."

"And have you thought that they're not telling you whatever it is you think they're hiding because they know it won't benefit you in anyway?"

Bonnie picked at her cuticle and nodded. "I know I should let it go, and be happy that I do have both of my parents even if they aren't together, but there's this part of me that always feels empty."

The doorbell chose that moment to ring much to Sheila's relief. She hated seeing Bonnie like this which typically happened during major holidays and her birthday.

Bonnie rose from the table, maneuvered her way through the boxes that littered the living room floor, and answered the door. It was a UPS delivery man.

Trading pleasantries and a quick observation about the weather, Bonnie sighed for the package and re-entered the living room. She eyed the box, and shook it as a way to figure out what lay inside.

"Who's that for?" Sheila questioned as she begun working on the tree knowing Bonnie had abandoned post for good.

"It's for mom. I wonder what it is. I'm going to put it in her room."

"After you're done with that can you run something over to the Salvatore boardinghouse?"

Bonnie stiffened on her feet, "Why?" she whined. She hated going to the boardinghouse that resided on the edge of town because the place look haunted. Bonnie had only been inside a grand total of five times and each time she'd leave even more freaked out than the last time she had been there.

Matters weren't helped much since Elena, her best friend, was completely stalking Stefan Salvatore who had moved back into town a few months ago. Stefan seemed nice enough, but he was quiet, reserved, and pretty much kept everyone at arm's length. Bonnie couldn't deny he was hot with a capital H-A-W-T, but looks couldn't make up for a dull or suspect personality.

"Why?" Sheila parroted. "Because I asked you to that's why. It'll only take you less than ten minutes to get there. I know you plan to sneak out later on tonight anyways to meet up with those fast girls, and leave me here to decorate this house by myself. So this is the least you can do."

Bonnie snickered. "Caroline, Elena, and Vicky aren't fast." The first two weren't, the last one…

"I know man-eaters when I see them," Sheila persisted in her theory. "There's a manila envelope on the kitchen table. It's some research information Zach Salvatore asked me for weeks ago. I've been meaning to give it to him but I kept forgetting. Old timers must be kicking in."

"Grams you're barely a day over seventy. You're too young for Old Timers. All right," Bonnie relented knowing she didn't have much of a choice anyways. Once Grams wanted or requested something she usually got her way. "I'll drop it off. Can I borrow twenty bucks?" she presented an ear-to-ear grin.

Pursing her lips, Sheila shook her head. "My purse is in my room. Just know you've subtracted twenty dollars from my Christmas shopping budget. There goes that iTunes gift card you wanted."

"Maybe we can negotiate," Bonnie said hastily.

"Nope, too late the courts are closed. Hurry up before it gets dark. I don't want you on that side of town at night. There's been a lot of car crashes in that area."

Nodding her head, Bonnie dumped the UPS package in her mom's room, exchanged her Timberwolves pullover for her waist-length leather jacket, retrieved the envelope from the kitchen, and doubled back to get the twenty dollars from Grams' purse.

"Okay, I'm out. I'll see you later," Bonnie kissed her grandmother on the cheek.

"Don't you think you should wear your wool coat? It's thirty degrees outside, Bonnie."

"I'll grab my scarf and hat, will that do? That wool coat makes me itch. In case you're curious on what else to get me for Christmas I saw this cute pea coat on the Nordstrom's website."

"I just bet you did. See you later, chile and be safe."

* * *

After dropping off the envelope at the boardinghouse which didn't take long much to Bonnie's relief, she had received a call en route to Elena's saying she and Caroline were headed over to Persephone's Coffeehouse, and asked if she wanted to swing by. She agreed to meet with them and told Elena to order her mocha and peppermint frappe, about the only thing good enough to get Bonnie in the Christmas spirit.

Her wood was wet. She couldn't get excited about anything. Not about the possibility of snow that would become more of a nuisance than a thing to marvel at leading to days of back breaking shoveling. Seeing decorations and lights on people's homes, cars, and dogs did not move her to feel the spirit of the atmosphere. The manger outside of the nearby church did little to inspire some kind of reflection on the reason for the season.

Pop holiday music irritated her. Old classic Christmas songs depressed her. And excitable children and their indulgent parents clogging up the aisles while she tried to do her personal shopping, aggravated her!

And she was still on the fence about attending her dad's annual holiday party. Bonnie wondered why he invited her when he had gone out of his way not to in previous years. She had only questioned him once to which he stammered through his explanation.

"It's an older crowd…you probably wouldn't be comfortable."

That translated into: my wife can't stand to look at the product of my infidelity. If Bonnie were in Mildred Lockwood's shoes could she open up her home and heart to her husband's love child? She didn't know and if she were lucky she'd never have to find out.

Parking her car, Bonnie entered the coffeehouse. It was bitterly cold inside, and the young teen had the sneaky suspicion that was done on purpose to prompt customers to keep coming back and ordering refills. Which were not free.

"Bonnie!"

She turned in the direction her name had been called and spotted Caroline waving her arms wildly. Smiling and letting out a tiny laugh, Bonnie strolled by occupied tables until she reached the back of the coffeehouse where her friends had all joined in front of the stone fireplace.

"Hey," Bonnie said before going around dispensing hugs to those who were present. Elena handed her, her drink and Bonnie wasted no time taking a sip. "Thanks."

"Love that jacket," Elena complimented.

Bonnie smiled. "You should. I borrowed it from your closet."

"Now I know why it looks familiar." Raiding each others wardrobe was the norm between them.

"Okay, so I was thinking this year we could have an ugly Christmas sweater party at the Lockwood mansion," Caroline returned to the conversation that had already been in progress. "And whoever rocks the most fugly sweater could win like a gift card or something. I mean, we did the whole reindeer thing last year, and the year before that the theme was elves. We had like a hundred people showing up dressed as Legolas. Seriously, what about 'holiday elf' did people just not get?"

Elena and Bonnie shared a look and laughed.

Delegations continued as those assembled vetoed certain parts of Caroline's nifty ideas, and inserted their own which the blonde spared no punches in letting people know as head of the Holiday Planning Committee—something she made up on the fly so she could assume control, she had the final say.

By the time conversations drifted to another topic, Bonnie's frappucino was gone and warming her belly, and she wanted another one. The twenty dollars she finagled from Grams burned in her pocket.

"I'm going to get a refill. Do you want one?" she asked Elena who shook her head, eyes glued to her phone. Bonnie left her to her texting.

The door to the establishment burst open ushering in a crowd six deep with a lovely flux of bone chilling wind. The wind licked Bonnie's spine and made her shiver. She waited until they passed before falling in line—grumbling she'd have to wait an eternity to place her order since there was only one person working the register.

Right before she dug in her pocket to retrieve her own phone, her current obsession walked through the door cancelling those plans.

She gulped.

Today he had shunned his black leather jacket for a conservative yet stylish quarter length wool coat, navy blue scarf, dark jeans, and a knit sweater. His crow black hair was tousled and wind-blown, his cheeks were ruddy against his pale skin. His best features in Bonnie's astute opinion were his turquoise eyes.

Those eyes were as big as marbles and protected by long lashes under arched, pitch-black eyebrows perched in an oval face. The man Bonnie aptly nicknamed Mr. Smolderhalder stood an inch or two above average height, carried a swimmer's build, and had a baritone voice which did supernatural things to her genitalia.

From what she had observed over the months the man was an avid music enthusiast because his headphones were never far from his anatomy. Even now, he was scrolling through his smart phone, earbuds lodged into his ears. Good, because otherwise Bonnie was positive he, along with everyone else in this joint, would have heard her thundering heart.

He looked up suddenly from his phone, eyes catching hers in the act of stripping him bare, right down to his soul.

Immediately the guillotine of shyness came whizzing down on Bonnie's head decapitating her from her confidence. Her skin superheated and her lips twitched since they couldn't decide if she should smile, frown, or whistle. She faced front but not without blushing horribly.

He stood right behind her in line and Bonnie felt him. Could feel him despite there being a respectable amount of space between her back and his front. Yet she felt him all the same. The man was a physical presence, an incorporeal being capable of touch, and if she didn't know better she'd swear he was purposely affecting her.

Bonnie pretended she needed to scratch her chin on her shoulder, so she turned her head like an owl, peeped at the mysterious man, and met his silver-blue gaze with her green one.

She offered up a tiny smile, he returned the gesture with a smirk that bordered on filthy, and then she moved up a slot since two of the six people in front of her had placed and gotten their orders.

"Crappy weather we're having," the man began without preamble or even being prompted by Bonnie.

She continued to look forward, reading each item on the menu carefully as if she didn't have it memorized while savoring the timbre of his voice. "They say it might even snow on Christmas."

"If it does it means you'd get to stay in and…snuggle."

Her lips twitched. "Snuggling is nice if you have someone to do it with."

"Hmm, maybe I'm being presumptuous, but you don't look like the type that likes sleeping alone. I could be wrong, I could be right. I guess I won't know until you put me out of my suspense and tell me."

"Why do you care if I sleep alone or not?"

"It matters to me a great _deal _if you do or don't."

A smile slipped, "Then rest easy. Five months ago I preferred sleeping alone…" she purposely trailed off.

"And five months later… now you, what?"

"I've gotten used to an additional body in my bed. Or being in someone else's."

"Hi, welcome to Persephone's Coffeehouse what can I get you?" the barista asked Bonnie who blinked because she hadn't been aware it was now her turn to order.

"Oh, um…can I have a refill of the mocha and peppermint frappe, please?"

"Sure."

Bonnie moved aside so he could step up to the counter and place his drink order. She already knew what he was going to get: an iced black coffee. Like she had come to expect, Bonnie watched the barista undergo a litany of physiological changes in dealing with him—Damon Salvatore—who could make the most stoic woman blush.

The effect he had was universal and crossed all borders. Drew you in and ensnared you. Devoured you and rendered you immobile.

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, Bonnie got a front row seat to how she typically reacted when alone with Damon. Red face, accelerated pulse, tongue-tied, unable to maintain prolonged eye contact. All signs the coffee lady was currently exhibiting.

Bonnie stared at Damon askance.

He was older than her by six years, worked as one of many advisors to the current mayor, and for some strange reason he was interested in her.

They met six months ago at a picnic where Damon thought she was a fellow aide, but she had to unfortunately break the truth to him, especially after he spent a majority of the day flirting with her. Bonnie figured he'd lose all interest once their age differences were revealed—she had yet to turn eighteen, but as she was leaving he walked past her, and slipped his phone number in her hand.

It took a couple of weeks for Bonnie to gather her courage to make the call, and once she finally did, she was hooked on all things Damon. From the sound of his voice, to his mind, even down to the way he brushed his teeth, Bonnie was enamored and smitten.

She hadn't a told a soul about their relationship. If sneaking into Damon's house and hiding away in his bedroom or wherever could be constituted as a relationship then yes, she kept quiet about it. The secrecy of it all made her feel grown up and juvenile at the same time. She knew her mother and grandmother wouldn't approve, and Bonnie didn't want to cost Damon his job.

So they kept their relationship stationed at his house—not the boardinghouse—but _his_ family home he inherited after both of his parents tragically and unexpectedly died in a plane crash. If they weren't at his house, they mostly traveled an hour outside of town to go to the movies, or to dinner. Bonnie could tell Damon was losing patience in keeping their relationship discreet, but she wasn't ready to take things public.

Legally she was an adult, but to those around her they still viewed Bonnie as a little girl needing protection from the big, bad world. They would label Damon as being too much for her to handle. She could confess he was from time to time. He was far from a boy scout but he was leagues away from being a psychopath.

What everyone didn't know was Damon offered Bonnie stability in her sea-tossed thoughts. He kept a smile on her face, her brain humming, and her skin tingling. He provided that strong male figure in her life she had been desperate for from the time she was a small child. No, she certainly didn't look at Damon like he was a stand-in for her father, but he was what she needed: best friend, protector, confidant.

There was one title yet to be tacked on, and Damon did what he could within his power to change it. Bonnie did everything she could to keep things as they were.

Their orders were placed on the counter and they reached for their drinks at the same time. Knuckles brushed along one another. That small contact sent heat rushing up Bonnie's arm and it took a great deal of effort for her to ignore it. All day she had missed this. Missed him.

"Delicious," Damon commented after taking a sip of his drink. "How about yours? Does it satisfy your thirst?"

A smirk lifted a corner of Bonnie's bowed lips. "The second cup is always better than the first."

There was a brief pause. Bonnie knew she needed to wrap things up before Elena and Caroline began sniffing after her scent. They became bloodhounds anytime she got missing for longer than a second, but it was difficult walking away from Damon despite knowing she'd see him later.

"So tonight…should I fluff up a pillow, or go to sleep by myself?"

Bonnie allowed one second of unfiltered and unadulterated eye contact with Damon. No one's eyes should be that piercing or blue. Hot enough to cauterize skin, shrewd enough to keep his secrets under lock and key. They talked every night but there was much Bonnie didn't know about Damon. She knew the basics like: his favorite food, movie, book, color, and that Stefan was his younger brother though they weren't particularly close. But she didn't know that much about his childhood, what he was like as a teenager, or if he had ever been in love.

Maybe those were silly things to know, but Bonnie wanted to know them nonetheless. Damon knew about her being the mayor's love child—everyone knew about that. She had pretty much made her life an open book. Bonnie wanted the same reciprocation.

"Tonight," Bonnie replied. "I'll see you tonight."

Damon winked, pivoted on his feet and walked away at the same time Elena and Caroline approached. They stapled their attention on Damon, both looking far too giddy to cross his path than Bonnie would have liked. Some words were exchanged she couldn't hear, but Elena burst out into laughter whereas Caroline twirled a strand of her platinum blonde hair around her finger and delivered her best saucy smile.

Girls, Bonnie thought.

* * *

The stem of a champagne flute twirled between tiny, mocha fingers. Legs enshrined in thigh-high socks stretched across the 750-thread count sheets, while her back arched to the ceiling in a feline stretch. A soft sigh escaped the crack between her upper and bottom lip but was barely heard over the crackling in the fire.

This was the kind of setting Bonnie had read about in her mom's erotic novels she used to sneak into her room during sleepovers with her friends. They would huddle under the sheets as not to be discovered, read passages to one another that described sex in a way no human would ever be able to perform, laughing, giggling, and gagging, but secretly hoping their first time would be just the way it had been described by someone who clearly knew what they were talking about.

Caroline had been the first to lose her virginity at fifteen. Elena at sixteen and Bonnie…

She frowned and fixed her eyes on the ceiling. Hers was still intact though she was hoping to change it at least by Valentine's Day. Not to say she hadn't had opportunities before meeting Damon. It's just…the cutest boys had always shown interest in her two best friends and other girls, and only looked at Bonnie when they wanted someone to give them all the answers to their homework. A couple tried to talk to her behind the scenes to which she shut them down.

Bonnie was glad she waited and was still waiting. Not necessarily for the right moment, but there was something she had to tell Damon first.

Sitting up on her elbows the young woman stared at Damon who stood dressed in only his boxer briefs polishing off the rest of his bourbon. Tilting her head to the side, Bonnie dragged a slumberous gaze over him from top to bottom. Damn, she gouged the inside of her cheek with her teeth. He was…_scultura, _yes built like a marble statute. She had no business being with a man like Damon—that's what society would tell her. He was a man who should know better and she was a young woman about to embark on the path of finding herself.

Finding herself. Did anyone accomplish that all-elusive journey simply by getting a good paying job, getting married, and having kids? Was that the equivalent of finding oneself? Or was it going into debt and hating every minute of your life? Or living as a nomad doing what made you happy even if it couldn't provide your basic needs?

Bonnie didn't know and didn't care right now. "What are you doing for Christmas?" she asked, suddenly curious about his plans since the major holiday was less than two weeks away.

Damon faced her. "If I had my way I'd be doing _you_ for Christmas."

"Damon," Bonnie reproached but then laughed, "be serious."

"I am being serious. Christmas isn't that big of a deal to me. But…I'll probably pop in on Zach and Stefan, annoy them until they threaten to throw me out, come back here, and wait for you. Why? Did you have something in mind?"

She paused before replying,"My mom usually has an open house on Christmas so if you wanted to stop by…you could."

A dark eyebrow rose in the air and Damon placed one foot in front of the other as he began to march to the end of the bed. "Are you trying to say you're ready to go public?"

"What I'm saying," Bonnie fully rose to a seated position on the bed, "is if you wanted to stop by you can and I could introduce you as my special friend."

Damon mulled over her proposition, grabbed Bonnie by the ankles and tugged her closer. She squealed and then, wrapped her legs around Damon, glass dangling from her hand, her skirt riding up her thighs in the process. His fingers trailed along her ribs before swooping inward to massage her shoulders.

"Special friend?" the dark-haired man tested the phrase on his tongue not sure he liked the flavor. "Do you cause _this_ to happen to all your special friends?" Damon indicated his erection by pointedly flashing his eyes to his crotch.

"Not that I know of," Bonnie deadpanned and slid her hands over his chest. "I want to see you on Christmas and I probably I won't be able to get away at all. Typically I spend the morning and afternoon with my mom and Grams, and then it's over to my dad's house for a hot second, before ending my journey at Elena's for dessert and board games. I just…I just want to see you since this is technically our first Christmas together."

"Hmm, I thought you were having second thoughts about spending time in any capacity with your dad. What's changed?"

Bonnie shrugged. She couldn't put a finger on why this year of all years she wasn't excited or at the very least content with seeing her father. The last time they saw each other was Thanksgiving.

"I don't know," she tried to explain. "I can't help but feel he's hiding something from me and whatever it is I guess I do and don't want to know what it is. Maybe I'm just tired of pretending we have this close relationship when clearly we don't. He asks me the exact same questions whenever we're forced to deal with each other. It's like a script between us and he never deviates from it. Maybe he thinks I might pry into his business and ask why he cheated on his wife with my mom. I can't lie, Damon. I do want to know what my parents were to each other. I want to know why we've never been a family."

Damon had heard some rumors about former Mayor William Lockwood, but he didn't think now was the time to tell Bonnie what he had heard. He would if push came to shove.

"Have you asked your mom?"

Bonnie nodded. "Anytime I try she cops an attitude with me and tries to change the subject. I stopped asking. Grams isn't much better in telling me anything. Do you think…do you think he did something to my mom and she can't forgive him for it?"

"I don't know, Bonnie," that was a partial lie. Now Damon was itching to distract her to get off this subject.

"In my head and this might be clichéd but I think they were in love, or maybe my mom was the only one in love, and he pretended to love her because for him it was just sex. Maybe he promised to leave his wife and marry her, and went back on his word. Sounds like a Jackie Collins novel or a soap opera but it happens more than we think. But my mom doesn't come off as the type who would ever get involved with a married man. And no offense to my dad, but he's not all that good looking."

Damon snorted which earned him a sharp look. "Sorry." It was true, William Lockwood made the Crypt Keeper look like People's Sexiest Man Alive. "I'm glad you came out a beauty."

"You're so shallow," Bonnie wrinkled her nose but smiled.

"Shallow I may be, but right I am," he puckered up his lips and kissed her. Kissed her until they needed air. "If you can't for whatever reason get away, and I actually end up enjoying myself at the dysfunctional House of Salvatore, I should give you one of your presents now."

Bonnie eyes got all big and she quickly sat on her knees and clapped her hands like a seal. "You got me gift? Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie."

Damon stared at her funny but walked over to his dresser, rummaged around in the top drawer, and removed a small box.

"I need your leg," Damon motioned for said object with his fingers.

"Which one?"

"The left since it's connected to your heart."

She couldn't help herself. Bonnie melted. She stretched out her left leg and watched as Damon ran his hand up her limb, concentrating on what he was doing. He curled his fingers between the top of her sock and skin and pulled off the hosiery. Next he reached for the box, slid it open to reveal a rose gold anklet.

"It's beautiful, Damon. Thank you."

"Read the inscription," he passed the anklet to Bonnie.

"It's in Italian. I can't read Italian."

"Sorry, what was I thinking," Damon mocked and then recited, "_Tesoro per una donna fenomenale… '_Treasure for a phenomenal woman'," he translated and then placed the jewelry on her ankle.

Bonnie's cheeks were burning as she admired her gift. The rose gold was a perfect compliment against her skin, but the inscription, made her heart swell.

"Thank you…I love it…" her grin faded away as she stared seriously at Damon. He grew a little concerned thinking his gift was too much since Bonnie wasn't looking too pleased at the moment.

In this moment, Bonnie knew she had to tell Damon how she really felt. It was time and she was done holding it in.

"I want to tell you…" her phone started ringing. Bonnie cursed and wanted to ignore it, but it was her mom calling since the theme music from Judge Judy was blaring from the tiny speaker. "I have to go."

"That's what you want to tell me?"

"No," Bonnie kissed him chastely. "It's late and I haven't seen my mom all day. That's her calling. I have to go."

Damon let her escape. Bonnie slid her sock back on before stuffing her feet in her boots and grabbing her jacket and purse.

Right before she made it to the door, he grabbed her around the waist, pulled her flushed against him, and kissed the space behind her ear. "'Your lips _are _like a strand of scarlet, and your mouth is lovely…until the day breaks and the shadows flee away, I will go my way to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense'...Sleep tight, doll, and have lots of dirty dreams about me."

* * *

"Check in the box at the bottom of the hall closet. There should be more in there."

Those were the instructions Abby had given her daughter who was still fruitlessly searching for more holiday decorations. Why was everything invariably located in a box in the bottom of a closet? Bonnie wondered as she pulled out old clothes, shoes, _everything _except that box. She was beginning to sweat in her sweater.

Finally seeing a box, Bonnie pulled it out noting its heavy weight. It wasn't taped shut which would save her time in hunting down a pair of scissors. She opened the box first seeing nothing but her old baby clothes. Maybe what she was looking for was buried underneath, but soon Bonnie realized it was a useless box of junk.

"Have you found it?!" Abby shouted from the living room.

"Not yet. Are you sure it's in this closet and not the one in your room?"

"No, I remember putting it in the hall closet last year. If you can't find it then I'll just have to run out and get new figurines."

Shaking her head at the wasted effort, Bonnie began piling the clothes back into the box but stopped when she noticed a journal. It didn't belong to her because all her journals were stored away in their very own box in her room. Reaching for it and flipping through a couple of pages, Bonnie came to the quick conclusion this was her mother's journal. She was a bit surprised her mom actually owned a diary.

She began debating whether she should pretend she never found it, or maybe keep it, and flip through it. You know, just to get a better understanding of the woman who raised her.

Bonnie may have tarried for a couple of seconds prior to deciding it might be best not to violate her mom's privacy like that. She wouldn't want her kid digging through her things and reading her embarrassing teenaged thoughts. But a few of the dates caught Bonnie's eye. This wasn't a teenaged journal.

A yellowed news clipping was stuck between the pages and Bonnie unfolded it and read the headline. She frowned…and then cursed.

TBC.

**A/N: Thoughts? I know, serious subject matter centered around the holidays which stir up a lot of emotions-some good, some bad or a mixture of both in a lot of people. My sincerest apologies if it bothered or disturbed anyone, but I wanted to go in another direction with my writing/storytelling, and though I would have love to do something fluffy and sweet, it just wasn't in me at this particular time. Reviews are wonderful Christmas presents *insert gap-tooth smile* Until next time, love you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Sorry this took longer than I anticipated it would take in getting out. I had a whole other chapter written but I didn't like what I came up with so I decided to scrap it, and start fresh. A tremendous and heart felt thank you to those who have read, reviewed, added to your faves, alerted, all that good stuff. I will say this chapter doesn't really touch on what Bonnie may have read in that newspaper clipping. It's mentioned, but because this subject matter is really serious I can't exactly wrap things up in only two chapters, so I've decided to extend this story to four chapters. Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: These characters are the creative property of LJ Smith and The CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

**The Past—1994 **

Her car wouldn't start. Just perfect. Exactly what she needed to conclude a hellish day spent haggling with snotty insurance adjusters, impatient patients, and whiny staff who only cared about securing time off for the upcoming holiday season. Abby Bennett cursed her failing automobile, popped the hood, and climbed out of the car.

She didn't know what she was looking at, to be honest. She was a total dunce when it came to machines, especially cars and left things to the experts who charged her an arm, leg, a kidney, and one of her fallopian tubes.

Everything appeared to be in order as Abby tried to peer at the engine under the poor lighting of the parking lot. She sighed heavily and slammed the hood closed. Without the proper tools, lighting, or an expert knowledge on a Cutlass Supreme engine, Abby had to trek back to the office to call a cab and a tow truck to tote her car to the nearest mechanic shop.

A car approached from the south, headlights blinding her. Abby held up her hand to block the light and before she knew it, the car pulled up along side hers. The passenger window rolled down and she bent over to see who it was.

"Mayor Lockwood," Abby began tentatively and in some surprise.

"Abby Bennett, surprised to see you still out and about," he spared her car a glance, "Having car trouble?"

"Yeah, it won't start."

"Have you tried pumping the gas at the same time you start the engine?"

"No, I didn't think to try that. I'll give it a go."

"Or, I could give you a lift home. It's getting colder by the minute, and it's not safe out here."

The temperature was plummeting, Abby could refute that. However, she didn't exactly feel the warmth or safety from inside of the Mayor's Cadillac either. But knowing the man was a public servant, as most politicians liked to refer to themselves as, and he wasn't a total stranger, Abby speculated she was in good company. The mayor would see her home, and she'd only have to worry about getting to work in the morning. She could always borrow her mom's car, but since Sheila Bennett was a professor at the local community college, she'd have to drop her off, and sharing a car with anyone could be real inconvenient.

"I won't bite, Abby. Get in. I wouldn't feel right leaving you here stranded."

"I don't want to put you out. I should call a tow truck."

"You could, but I know for a fact Hal who runs the only tow truck company in town is home sick with a stomach virus."

Abby cursed inside her head.

Seeing her options as limited, Abby hesitated. "It's really okay, Mayor Lockwood. I can call a cab."

"Now, you're beginning to offend me," Mayor Lockwood visibly pouted. "I'd like to think a good mayor would go over and above for those in need. And you're in need of a ride home. Please, oblige me."

Taking a deep breath, Abby nodded briskly, grabbed her purse out of her car, locked the doors, and approached the Mayor's idling vehicle. The locks clicked the second she slid across the smooth leather interior.

"Thanks."

It took a second for the mayor to respond because he had been too busy leering. "You're welcome."

He pulled out of the parking lot.

Abby grew increasingly uncomfortable as she repeatedly caught William looking at her when he should have been concentrating on the road.

"Working late?" he asked.

"I was getting documents ready for tax season," Abby explained.

"Aw yes, we want to have all our ducks lined in a row. Grayson sings your praises whenever he gets the chance. He really values you as an employee."

"Dr. Grayson is an easy person to work for."

"Unlike me?" he asked with a smile on his face but something cold in his eyes.

Abby frowned. "I don't understand."

"Oh, nothing. I just remembered when I first got into office and I was looking for a new secretary because Ms. Porter decided to retire, and you were one of my top candidates, but turned down the offer to work as Grayson's personal assistant instead. I couldn't begin to tell you how hurt I was."

It was true. She had applied to be the mayor's assistant but didn't think she truly qualified for the position. By the time the mayor's office called with an offer of employment, Abby had already signed her contract to work for Dr. Grayson Gilbert.

"Sorry, didn't know you'd care so much," Abby twisted her purse strap around her finger and wondered how much longer until she made it home. The middle-aged woman had always found William Lockwood strange and peculiar and other than exchanging hellos, she and the mayor never engaged in any real conversation. This was probably the longest they spoke at length since she came in to interview for the secretarial position.

Her musings were interrupted when William pulled off the two-lane highway down a service road. Abby's hackles immediately stood on end.

"Mayor Lockwood what are you doing? Where are you going? We're still a mile away from my home."

"Relax, I just want to talk to you. We've known each other for how long?"

Abby shrugged and checked the time on her watch. "For ten years or so," and she wouldn't haul off and say she knew William exactly.

"And in those ten years you haven't aged a bit," suddenly the mayor's breathing deepened. "You're a stunning woman, Abby. I would _kill _to have a night with you."

"William Lockwood you turn this car around and take me home _right _now?"

"Why?" the mayor smiled in triumph. "It's not like you have a man sitting at home waiting for you. How long has it been, Abby? How long has it been since a man…touched you?"

Abby tried to keep her composure and not lose it. She reached for the lock to pull it up, and the handle to pull it forward to leap out of the still moving car. But William, who anticipated the move, abruptly threw the car into park, and lunged for Abby.

She didn't think he was that strong…

Several weeks later Abby stood at the end of the pier, blanket wrapped around her shoulders completely ignoring the lake and the pine trees surrounding it. It was beautiful here, peaceful, and she always envied her childhood friend for lucking out and marrying a man who could provide her with various homes for each season of the year almost. It was easy to forget one's problems out here in the wilderness, but this time her problems refused to be pigeon-holed.

She was pregnant with a monster's baby. Of all the things that could have happened to her, why this? Why now? She might have been in her mid-thirties, dated occasionally, but Abby had been getting used to the idea she might never be a mom. And now this bombshell just landed on her head and completely threw a huge fucking monkey wrench in her plans. She could scream or kill someone (namely the one responsible) or do a combination of both. She was just so _angry_!

How was she going to do this? There was no way she could ever forget what happened to her with such a permanent reminder as a child. William had come in and took something that didn't belong to him but felt was his because she didn't want to work in his office. Was he serious? Was he fucking serious?! So he raped her to get back at her? Shredded her womanhood in order to cure his bruised, imaginative ego? She wanted him dead!

Miranda Gilbert's voice nearly caused Abby to scream. She snapped her head toward her friend—glaring, but her glare softened when she saw the cup of tea in Miranda's hands. She accepted it, and stirred the spoon in the hot liquid.

"Still haven't decided what you're going to do?" Miranda asked.

Abby avoided making eye contact as she sadly shook her head. "I don't want this baby, Miranda. I don't think I could take care of it or l-love it the way a baby needs to be loved," she swallowed the heavy lump in her throat. She had disclosed her pregnancy, but not the details of who the father was to her best friend. And she never would if she didn't have to. It was too humiliating.

"Abby, if you need help with anything, you know I'm here."

The woman in question shot a look of gratitude to one of her oldest friends. Miranda still looked like Miss Mystic Falls, pageant ready with perfectly coifed midnight hair, dark brown eyes, olive skin, and trim body.

"We can go through pregnancy woes together."

Abby's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "You're pregnant?"

Miranda nodded and began to glow. For years Miranda and Grayson tried to have a baby naturally, and through various fertility treatments to no avail. Now, when Abby's life seemed to be falling apart at the seams, Miranda's was coming together like a quilt. She wanted to be happy for her friend, and deep down Abby was, conversely her happiness could only extend so far. Miranda's baby had been made out of love. Hers—rape.

Abby's face flattened. She didn't have that glow and she never would. She carried the weight of William Lockwood's disgusting seed, and more than anything Abby wanted it out of her. Gone. Eradicated. Yet, there was a tiny part of her that knew her baby shouldn't be punished because it never asked to be conceived that way. She was on a seesaw of emotion. One minute up, the next minute down. Would she be feeling any better if she had reported the rape? Would it make making a decision less soul-crushing if there was a physical record and medical proof of what happened to her? Abby didn't know.

Seeing the despondency take over her friend, Miranda wrapped her arms around Abby and rested her chin on her shoulder.

"The both of us pregnant at the same time, we're going to get through this together. You know I'm a firm believer in a woman's right to chose, but if you decide to keep the baby, I'm here for you no matter what. Just be absolutely certain with your decision. Either one you make…there's no turning back."

Abby sighed. And that was the point that scared her most of all.

* * *

**Present Day—December 17****th**

Bonnie hadn't been to this church in ages. In fact, the last time she probably stepped through the doors was last December. She hadn't been raised in any form of organized religion, but she considered herself to have a devoutly personal spiritual side that reared its head sporadically throughout the year. Tonight, however, she wished she had stayed home.

The pew beneath her bottom was padded—thankfully, however she couldn't escape feeling as if the eyes of the angels and saints in the stained glass windows were staring pointedly at her. Probably trying to figure out exactly who she was considering her presence was about as rare as spotting a wolf hunting in the nearby woods. This place was supposed to be a symbol of faith and hope, and she could use a little bit of both right this second.

She sat attentively and listened to the players in the pulpit dressed in costume acting out a classic Christmas play. Some of the lines she knew by rote because once upon a time, when she was younger, smaller, and was actively involved in activities, she had played a bit role in the play, _A Christmas Carol. _Bonnie remembered being so excited to dash on stage in her all-white gown and dazzle the crowd with her mini ballet, bright smile, as she tried to chip away at Scrooge's cold, dead heart.

Obviously she wasn't that little angel anymore. A dark cloud had settled over her house, over her head, and it refused to budge. For now, Bonnie was content with ignoring its persistent presence until it finally decided to move on to grumpier pastures since it wasn't getting a reaction from her.

Occasionally Bonnie would flip through the program to give herself something to do as the play droned on. She pretty much had the name of the cast memorized despite already knowing who each individual was. Bonnie knew the name of the director, playwright, the lighting director, and the stage hands. Still in the back of her mind she couldn't stop thinking about her dad because well…

He was seated on the second row in the middle pews of the church.

Leaf-green eyes found themselves traipsing over to his section that was packed with family members, those who lived domestically and those who lived abroad. Bonnie tried not to be upset by the fact she hadn't been asked to sit with them, even after she and her dad made direct eye contact while he worked the crowd, greeting his past and prior constituents appearing jovial and the center of attention of man at the height of his life.

All he did when he saw her brown face seated amongst the multitude was nod a bit, and quickly resume his conversation with the president of the Wickery Bridge Foundation.

That shouldn't have bothered her. She should have been glad he just didn't look through her like she was a sheet of glass, but it did smart, and it did pinch her heart. For someone who wanted her around—at least to attend his Christmas party—William Lockwood sure hadn't gone out of his way to include her in on more things as his daughter. She was acknowledged but still held at arm's length. She existed but might as well have been a ghost.

Bonnie didn't expect Mildred or her half-siblings Alex, Colleen, or Clarissa to move from their prestigious seats to invite her to sit with them. In fact, none of them had even been made aware she was there in attendance. But how could they not know she would show up since everyone in town flocked to these events like they were giving away free money or food?

Maybe they had expected her to crawl on her hands and knees, bed, plead, and cry to be apart of the Lockwood's. Was not gonna happen. Bonnie had been brought up with a tremendous sense of pride and self-worth. If anything, _they _should have gone out of their way to make her feel as if she were an extended part of the family. Instead, they shunned her with their privilege and looped her as a co-conspirator in her mom's game to win William Lockwood's heart and snatch him from his family.

Again, William Lockwood was not all that.

Matt who was seated beside her, head lolled and bumped into her shoulder. He abruptly sat up, cleared his throat, and looked around wondering if anyone caught him dozing off. This play like all the ones before it year after year was as dry as toast. He pulled out his cell to check the time. Saw they were only an hour into things and heaved a deep sigh.

Bonnie giggled softly and grabbed his knee, applying pressure. "Don't feel bad. I'm ready to go, too," she whispered.

"Then let's sneak out and grab a burger from the Grille. I'm starving."

"We ate before we got here, Matt," Bonnie's voice had taken on an incredulous pitch.

He grinned, "I'm still growing, and I could use all the protein I can get."

If that wasn't the truth, Bonnie thought. In the fall, Matt would be headed off to be the second string quarterback for Virginia Tech. He was a local celebrity around these small town parts.

The idea of slipping out heavily appealed to Bonnie but she wanted to stay and maybe have a word with her dad afterwards. However, the idea of speaking with him—in public—increased her stress level. But Bennett's didn't run when things got hard. They stood strong and faced whatever battle headed their way. She would do this. She would make William Lockwood treat her like a person and not like a pestilent consequence of a long ago indiscretion.

"I want to stay to the end and say hi to my dad," Bonnie said in an aside, eyes focused back on the action taking place on stage. Something funny must have happened because there were a few snickers and laughs.

Matt rolled his eyes, hunkered down, crossed his ankles, folded his arms over his chest and figured it would serve in his best interest to get some much needed sleep.

Bonnie resumed her thinking. And her thinking took her to that yellowed newspaper clipping her mom had saved. It had been about accusations formed against the former mayor by an aide in his office. It didn't go into specific details but it didn't take much for Bonnie to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Her father had never been investigated by the IRS, FBI, or local police so it wasn't something like money laundering or taking bribes the aide had tried to blow a whistle on. No, it had to be something personal, possibly even something along the lines of sexual harassment since the aide was female, and said some inappropriate things happened while she had been employed.

Bonnie didn't really know how to react after finding that out. She wasn't surprised but she would admit to feeling a bit let down her dad was turning out to be a whoremonger who couldn't keep it in his pants. If he could be so disloyal to his wife and to the people who put him in office, could Bonnie really count on him to be what a father should be?

_What are you saying? He's had eighteen years to be a dad and he's only shown a passing interest. Consider yourself lucky he wasn't that big of a factor in your life._

The troubled girl shook her head. No. NO! He was her dad and she was a part of him just like he was a part of her. What he did reflected her and vice versa.

Before Bonnie knew it, the play had come to a close. People stood from their seats for a standing ovation and she may have joined them thirty seconds later. A quick speech of thanks was given by the minister before he did a benediction offering salvation to any of those who had been moved by the play to give their life to Christ. When no one came forward he told everyone to be safe and courteous to one another on the road.

Grabbing her stuff, Bonnie stepped out into the aisle and tried to work her way through the crowd who was busy heading for the exit whereas she tried to tussle to the front of the church.

God, she could hate being short. Bonnie lost sight of her dad and by the time she made it to the area where he and the rest of the Lockwood's had been seated, those pews were empty. They must have gone through the exit reserved for the clergy, or those with the right connections. Well, she certainly wasn't going to chase him down.

Making her way out the church, Bonnie ran into Matt who waited for her right by the door.

"That was quick," he remarked and began to trek to Bonnie's Prius.

"I missed him," she replied trying her best to sound nonchalant.

Matt bobbed his head and then took Bonnie's keys from her and opened up the passenger side door. "I'll drive. You look like you have a lot on your mind and there might be some icy spots on the road."

It had rained earlier and with the frigid temperature most of what had fallen had frozen over. And it would just be her luck to get into an accident.

Bonnie compliantly slid into the passenger seat, petulant, and flicked on the heat the minute Matt climbed behind the wheel, and started the ignition. She turned the vent straight to her face to stave off any tears that might leak from her eyes. If there was one fault Bonnie had it was wearing her heart on her sleeve. There were many things that rolled off her back like water off a duck's feather, but there was so much more that wounded her deeply.

"You okay, Bon?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," her voice cracked.

"No, you're not. Talk to me. What's going on?"

"I don't know what's wrong with me this year, Matt. The holidays are supposed to bring out the best in people, right? Everyone is supposed to be happy, kind, and nice to each other, but me…I just feel like…if I don't feel like bursting into tears then I want to hurt something."

Matt stared at her wearily once he rolled the car to a stop at a red light. "Maybe you're…"

"If you say I'm PMS-ing I will chop you in the throat."

He held up his hands in surrender. "All right. I was just trying to be understanding. Not making a joke at your expense. Look, I don't know what you might be going through but if you ever need to talk to you know I'm here."

Bonnie nodded. Matt was much in the same situation as her. Born out of wedlock. Whereas as she met her dad, Matt had no idea who his father was. He could have passed the man over a thousand times on the street and wouldn't have known. Kelly Donovan _loved _life and men and often neglected herself and her responsibility to her children in the pursuit of a lover. He hadn't had it easy growing up as well. Why did kids think it was cool to make fun of other kids when they were absent a parent?

"I'll get myself together. One day," Bonnie replied sheepishly.

Clicking on the right turn signal, Matt pulled into the Mystic Grille parking lot. He found a spot not far from the entrance and killed the engine. "Are you going to your dad's party next weekend? Caroline told me he invited you."

"I'm still on the fence about it."

"I don't blame you. Mrs. Lockwood seems nice and all, but I heard she can be a real bitch when she feels betrayed. And she's friends with every single entitled and pampered housewife in the area. So you can imagine what they talk about. I remember when my mom wanted to be on some committee, and Mrs. Lockwood basically told her they didn't want the event to be ruined with her input since my mom only has a high school diploma, no husband, questionable employment, and two bastard children."

"She said all of that?"

Matt shrugged, "Not like that, but it was pretty much the gist of what she said to my mom. I had to hand it to Kelly Donovan. She didn't leave with her tail tucked between her legs. She was almost arrested for the scene she caused," he smiled broadly.

"I've always liked Miss Kelly. She's bold and doesn't care what people say about her."

"Yeah," Matt climbed out of the car and Bonnie did as well. "At least that's the perception she gives off. When she's alone at the house…totally different story. But the one piece of advice my mom told me that I'm going to carry with me until I'm old and gray is: it doesn't matter what people say about you or what they call you, it's what you respond to."

"That's great advice. But why should it matter what kind of background your mom comes from to volunteer?" Bonnie questioned. "What does that have to do with how well you blow up balloons, or drape a table."

"It matters to elitist snobs who think having money and a good name is the ticket to success. Besides, my mom's too good for them."

"Here-here," Bonnie cheered. "Miss Kelly is one of the smartest women I know."

"I'll let her know you said that."

Matt held open the door for Bonnie and she smiled a little. Whoever decided to snatch him up would definitely get a good catch.

The inside of the eatery was packed. There didn't look to be an empty booth or table for them to sit. The hostess came flying from the back of the restaurant, carrying menus, and looking ready to leave after flipping over a couple of tables.

"Table for two?" she asked without sparing them a glance before yellowing into a walkie-talkie.

"What's the wait time?" Matt was positive that was his first time ever having to ask that question.

"Oh, I don't know!" the hostess snapped. "Sorry," she held up a hand and tried to calm her frayed nerves. "The wait for a table for two should be about 15-20 minutes. Do you want me to put your name down?"

Bonnie stared up at Matt wondering if he could wait that long to eat since he claimed to be starving.

"Can we sit at the bar?"Matt asked.

"Yeah. But no drinking," the hostess sternly pointed her pen in their direction before barking in the hand-held once more.

Matt and Bonnie made their way to the bar and out the corner of her eye she spotted a very familiar face. Quickly she looked down at her feet, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, but she avoided making eye contact with the man perched on the opposite end of the bar. Matt, still in gentleman mode, helped Bonnie with her jacket, and hung it up on the back of an empty chair at the bar.

"I'm going to head to the bathroom. I'll be right back," he told her and promptly got missing.

Jumping a little to get on the high seat, a menu was dropped in front of Bonnie by the bartender who was also subbing as a waiter. She was asked what she wanted to drink and Bonnie ordered cokes for both herself and Matt.

She looked inconspicuously to her right and leaned forward to see if perhaps the man on the other end was doing the same. He wasn't. He was talking to his younger brother, but the conversation didn't seem to be a pleasant one. Bonnie couldn't hear what they were talking about since three people sat in between them plus the overall noise of the restaurant drowned out any possibility of listening. She fidgeted a little in her seat and thought she could get up and say hi.

That's what she did. Before leaving her spot, she grabbed her purse, but placed her scarf on Matt's chair to mark his seat. Hopefully some douche wouldn't come and take their chairs.

As Bonnie made her way through the press of bodies, the scent of his cologne lured her in. Closer. The sound of his voice was like listening to an echo in a cave, deep, distant, but resonated within her core. Bonnie tried her best to control the twitching of her facial muscles, but gave up the second she stood directly in between but a little distance away from the Salvatore brothers.

Stefan was the first to notice her after doing a double take. "Bonnie! Hey, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Stefan. How've you been?"

"I can't complain," he said a bit uneasily. "Are you here by yourself?"

"No, I came with Matt. We just let the Christmas play at the church."

"Oh, how was that?"

"Uneventful," Bonnie snorted and Stefan smiled out of politeness. It was difficult for her to keep her attention away from Damon. Being this close to him, being able to feel his body heat but not having the openness to touch him how her hands were yearning to touch him was driving her mad. "I didn't see you there."

"Yeah, I had something else to take care of."

"Don't be rude, Stefan," Damon butted in and then swung on his stool to face Bonnie. He gobbled her up from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet loving the way her amethyst wrap dress hugged her breasts and clung to her hips. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Bonnie bit down on the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

A corner of Stefan's eye crinkled mainly because of the wolfish way his brother was devouring his classmate. "Sorry, I thought you two already met."

"I would remember meeting someone as gorgeous as her," Damon smirked frostily at his younger brother.

"Bonnie, this is my slightly older and neurotic brother, Damon. Damon this is Bonnie Bennett. She's _eighteen_," Stefan stressed.

Inwardly, Damon chuckled. "Pleasure to meet you Bonnie," he reached for her hand, and when it was in his grasp, lifted it and placed a kiss to her knuckles that sent a ripple of heat through her.

Her mouth was going to dry up and Bonnie could really chide herself for being _too_ responsive to Damon all the freaking time. "Nice to meet you, too."

During the exchange Stefan watched on and knew exactly what that gleam in his brother's eye meant. His brother had a reputation for loving women and leaving them with shattered and broken hearts to put back together with scotch tape. Although he and Bonnie weren't close, Stefan couldn't overcome the urge to try to dissuade her from being swooped up by Damon's charms.

"How do you know my brother?" Damon asked despite knowing the answer to that question already. He could honestly say that role playing was one of his favorite things.

"We have a couple of classes together and he's dating my best friend Elena Gilbert."

"Well, good for Elena…whoever that is," Damon winked.

Stefan's jaw clenched. Just as he was about to retort a heavy hand landed on his shoulder and nearly knocked the wind out of him. He shifted his attention and saw that it was Matt. The two began to trade pleasantries and talk shop leaving Bonnie and Damon to their own devices and continue the ploy they were virtual strangers to one another.

However, it became noticeable that Damon lost a bit of his playfulness when Matt joined the party. In fact, he glowered at the boy before refocusing his attention on Bonnie. She shifted her weight on feet already sensing she was in trouble due to the color blooming on Damon's cheeks.

"So," he began through a tight smile, "you're here on a _date_?"

Quickly Bonnie shook her head. "No, an outing. Every year Matt and I go to the Christmas play and we get a bite to eat afterwards."

"And you didn't feel it might be necessary to break with tradition this year?"

"No."

Damon who hadn't relinquished his hold on Bonnie's hand rubbed his thumb over the back of her knuckles. "What would your boyfriend say if he knew you were spending time with another guy?"

"I would tell my boyfriend he has nothing to worry about because I'm hanging out with a friend. A friend who's practically a brother to me."

"Ah, yes the whole brother excuse."

"It's not an excuse if it's the truth."

"Who's paying?" Damon abruptly changed the course of the conversation.

A divot formed between Bonnie's arched eyebrows in confusion. "For dinner?" Damon nodded. "We're going dutch."

He snorted, dropped her hand and reached for his shot glass. Down the hatch he poured the contents and then leaned forward in his seat until only inches separated him from Bonnie. In a very low voice he said, "He takes out my girl and doesn't have the decency to pay for dinner. Shame."

"We're all on a tight budget here," Bonnie argued. "We all can't be loaded like you." This might be her first time seeing Damon's possessive and jealous side. She wasn't sure if she liked it. Matt had been her friend since they shared sippy cups at daycare. There had never been anything romantic between them.

"I never took you for a gold-digger."

"I'm not. I don't care if someone has a million dollars in the bank or two pennies to rub together. If you're a decent person, that's all that matters to me."

"You're very passionate about this."

"Well, I don't like it when people make assumptions."

"Opinionated," his lips turned down at the corners, but that no good, playful glint highlighted the blueness of his eyes. "What else do you have a passionate opinion on?"

The tightness in Bonnie's shoulders relaxed. She really thought for a second she and Damon were about to have a fight. "Depends."

"On what?"

"The topic."

His lips were spreading like Moses parting the Red Sea. "The topic, you say. Hmm. How do you feel about a twenty-five year old man being hopelessly attracted to an eighteen year old girl?"

"First, I would question why he'd call her a girl when technically she's an adult…a young woman."

"Not a fan of semantics, dully noted." Pause. "Would you think the man was a pervert or sexual deviant for pursuing someone much younger than himself?"

Bonnie paused for dramatic effect before giving an answer. "I would say he saw something in her that he hadn't been able to see in someone closer to his age. If he's only motivated by the need to get in her pants then I might label him a sexual deviant, but if he wants to really get to know her, be her friend, have something real then I don't see anything wrong with it."

Damon could wipe the floor with his crooked grin, "I like the way you think, Bonnie."

"And what would you say about an eighteen year old young woman being hopelessly attracted to…and in love with a twenty-five year old man?"

Damon had his rebuttal ready to fire, but he snapped his jaw shut once Bonnie's words registered in his brain. Love?

In that second it didn't matter if Stefan was standing right there, or Matt, hell half the senior class was in the building, but Bonnie didn't care. She wanted Damon to know how she felt about him.

"You…? Damon attempted to put words together to convey the riotous thoughts in his head. He was experiencing an embarrassing brain fart.

Just as he made the decision to drag Bonnie to some darkened corner, he expeditiously put a mountain of space between them. His actions reminded her of a deer fleeing from a hunter. She wondered what caused the abrupt shift. Was it her confession? Had she spoken the words too soon? Out the corner of her eye, Bonnie saw her dad headed right for her.

Pivoting in her heels, Bonnie steeled her spine. She decided to meet him halfway. Her heart began to pick up in speed and she felt foolish for being a little afraid of talking to him, if he were in fact about to come and say something to her.

William Lockwood, a man of imposing height, and aging girth was something of a legend and hero in Mystic Falls. Bonnie couldn't really recall anything notable he had done, but to hear the older people talk, William Lockwood was the one who single-handedly saved the town from pirates, carpetbaggers, and corrupt politics.

His silver hair was cropped close to his scalp in a poor attempt to conceal his very noticeable bald spot. He had blue eyes that were not spectacular in any way, a straight nose, thin-lips, freckles, and a decent sized mole on the bottom of his chin that usually had a hair or two growing out of it. He was a plain man. Yet it was his gift of gab, familial connections, and blade-sharp intellect which gave him an aura that lured in the masses.

He smiled at Bonnie with some fondness but with also a note of distance. "Good evening, Bonnie." Pause. "You look beautiful," he complimented to hide the stiffness of his formality. No hey, baby girl, sugar, honey, William Lockwood never called her by any endearment.

"Thanks…dad. I'm surprised to see you here."

"I just came in to pick up a lava cake for Mildred. It's about the only thing she'll eat from this place. And she only likes it during this time."

"Oh," Bonnie didn't know what to say to that. Then something came to her. "My mom likes the lava cake here, too."

William flashed a here and gone smile and checked the time on his watch. "Did you enjoy the play? I saw you there and wanted to speak but I kept getting approached. You know how it is?"

Not really, but Bonnie nodded as if she did. "It was okay."

"Listen," William laid a hand on her shoulder, "about the party…I noticed you still haven't given your RSVP and if you're gonna come, Mildred needs a final count by tomorrow to let the caterer know how much food to prepare. I'd really like you to be there, Bonnie."

The girl in question swallowed. "Can I give you my answer by noon tomorrow? Or will that be too late?"

William didn't look happy with being put off. "T-that's fine. I'll just let Mildred know. She won't be too pleased about postponing the chef. She likes to have things in place and done in an orderly fashion."

Bonnie had no intentions of eating anything anyways. After hearing what Matt had to say about Mrs. Lockwood, it made Bonnie straddle the fence even more.

"I'm sorry to make things difficult…"

William waved a dismissive hand in the air and then realized quite a few people had stopped their eating and conversation to gawk at the former mayor talk with his illegitimate child. He loudly cleared his voice which made people scramble to carry on with their business.

"I need to get going, but you just call and ask to speak with Mildred to let her know. All right?"

Yeah, wasn't going to happen, but Bonnie said, "All right."

The former mayor paused before saying, "You look so much like your mother," he shook the thought loose almost immediately, "Get home safe," William patted her shoulder and briskly walked away.

When Bonnie refaced the bar, Damon of course was watching her very intently. She shook her head and then headed off to her seat, but he got up and intercepted her and pulled her to the corridor that led to the bathrooms.

"Are you crazy? Someone will see us!" Bonnie hissed.

"Complain to someone who cares," Damon braced her back up against the wall. "First things first. Are you okay? With your dad, I mean?"

"I'm fine."

"Good. Now about what you said before the moment was interrupted. Did you mean it? Or did you just say what you said as an example?"

Looking down bashfully, Bonnie quietly said, "I meant it."

Damon took a hold her chin and forced Bonnie to make eye contact. "Tell me again. We need to get this on record."

Even during a serious moment, Damon still had to crack a joke.

"I'll only say it if you say it with me."

"How do you know I feel that way about you?" the elder Salvatore questioned almost haughtily.

Bonnie wasn't sure but she knew Damon cared a great deal about her. On the flipside, she couldn't exactly force him to admit feelings he didn't have. "I'm taking my first major leap of faith this year. I don't want to jump by myself, but I will if I have to."

"You don't have to."

Seconds ticked by as Bonnie searched for signs that Damon was going to lose his nerve and back out. This was a big step for her. For the both of them. To admit the depth of their feelings. She had never been in love before, but like all her friends, she wanted to experience it. Bonnie was terrified of messing up, of not doing everything right, of Damon coming to her one day and saying he didn't want to see her anymore because he couldn't handle the disparity between their ages. He could do things that by law she couldn't. And the last thing Bonnie ever wanted to do was interrupt Damon's life. But there was no one like him in hers, and she needed him.

"I love you," they harmonized.

The words were foreign as they rolled off their collective tongues and gave birth to a new kind of elevation between them. They were no longer Bonnie and Damon who were secretly dating. They were now Bonnie and Damon who were secretly dating but madly in love.

Damon cupped her cheeks and possessed her mouth like a gladiator collecting the spoils of war. Bonnie was his for the taking. He loved her, she loved him, and he couldn't put into words what that did to his heart. He didn't think he'd ever be bitten by the love bug, had actually ridiculed people like his stupid little brother for settling with one female when there were plenty of fish in the sea. Now that he understood what it meant to have a pair of eyes stare at him as if he hung the sun, moon, and the stars just for her, and kept him on his intellectual and witty toes, and didn't cower from him in a battle of wills, Damon was proud of his new membership into the "I'm in Love Club".

With one more revolution of his tongue in her mouth, Damon released her lips, "You're seeing me tonight."

"The roads are slippery."

He grinned and dropped a kiss to her neck. "I'm no stranger to slippery surfaces."

Unable to help herself, Bonnie wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I'm sure you're an expert but I should probably sleep in my bed tonight. We don't want my mom to think that I'm having sex with Matt if I don't come home."

A growl and a nip to her skin was the reply to that. "I have to see you tonight, Bonnie. Don't lock your window. I'm coming over."

Excitement and something else quickened through her entire body, "That an order?"

"You bet your ass it is. Tonight," Damon sealed his request with another dizzying kiss.

"Tonight," Bonnie agreed breathlessly the minute he stopped.

* * *

At home Bonnie brushed and moisturized her hair until it was wavy perfection. She was almost done when a knock sounded on her door.

She answered, "Come in."

Abby popped through the door, observed Bonnie painstakingly oil her scalp, before moving to join her daughter on her bed. She shooed her child's hand away and continued the arduous task.

"How did the play go tonight?"

"The same as always," Bonnie sighed. "I don't even know why I went. I guess to get out of the house."

"Ouch, thanks," Abby said in mock offense.

Bonnie pursed her lips. "Don't pretend as if you sat on the cough and watched reruns of shows from the seventies all night. I knew you were out being fast with Mr. Hopkins."

"Moi? I think you have me mistaken with some desperate housewife. But…I was," Abby giggled like a young girl in love.

Bonnie stared at her mom aghast before laughing. "I so don't want details."

"If I can't share my secrets with you who can I share them with? I can't go to my mom about this."

"Yeah, but what makes you think I want to hear about you getting your groove on at your age?"

"Watch it. You'll be my age before you know it. And just because I'm older and wiser doesn't mean I'm dead below the waist."

Bonnie covered her ears and snapped her eyes closed and began singing, "Fa-lalalalalalalala."

"Hey, one day you'll wish you can be this cool with your daughter. Bearing in mind you want kids."

Hearing her mom say that made something spring to Bonnie's mind, and she remembered she had her mom's journal. She had yet to read it, but skimmed through a few passages, but didn't read anything verbatim. Did she really want to know more than what she already knew about her mother?

"I ran into dad at the Grille."

"Did you?"

It wasn't hard to miss the slight edge to her mom's question, nor the fact she began pulling Bonnie's hair slightly causing pain to shoot off in her scalp. "Um…ouch. I haven't been tender-headed for a while and I'm not looking to relive horrors from my childhood," the young teen complained.

"Sorry. Did you speak?"

"We did. He asked again if I was attending his party."

"Have you decided?"

"Part of me wants to go and a very big part of me wants to blow it off."

"If you go just be careful."

"Am I going to be sacrificed or something?" Bonnie made an attempt at humor.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they tried," Abby muttered flatly put the brush down, took her daughter's scarf and tightly wrapped it around her head. "There. Now you're ready for bed. What are you doing tomorrow?"

Bonnie pulled back the covers and climbed underneath. "I don't know. I might end up going back to the mall with Caroline and Elena," eyes rolled in exasperation. "I swear they've bought everything there is to buy and are still convinced they haven't found the perfect gift for so and so."

Abby put Bonnie's things away and informed her only child, "Rudy is coming over for dinner tomorrow."

"He's been doing that a lot lately," Bonnie wiggled her brows. Her opinion on Mr. Hopkins varied from day to day. Some days she was happy her mom found someone who made her happy, and then some days Bonnie felt he treated her with the same indifference as her birth father. She honestly didn't know what men's problems were.

"He only comes over once or twice every few weeks or so. So…can you help your mom in the kitchen and make your tasty string bean casserole?"

Huffing, Bonnie folded her arms over her chest. "Fine. But it'll cost you. Might cost you a little, might cost you a lot, but it'll cost you."

"Just add it to my tab," Abby tweaked Bonnie's nose, and turned off her bedside lamp.

"Mom?" Bonnie stopped her from leaving.

Abby turned the light back on. "What?"

"I'm…I'm in love with someone."

There were plenty of things Abby expected her child to reveal to her but saying she was in love was not even a handwritten blip on the back of an old receipt.

The bed dipped when Abby added her weight to it. She looked Bonnie over like she did whenever she complained of not feeling well. Bonnie's eyes were much too bright and her skin had a healthy golden pallor to it definitely not pale green.

"You…you think you're in love?"

"No, I know I am. And he's really nice and smart, and so many things I can't put into words."

"Bonnie, I-I didn't even know you liked anyone. Are you sure you're just not crushing on someone?"

The eighteen year old shook her head in the negative. "The feeling is mutual. We told each other tonight," she gushed excitedly.

"Hmm," Abby mumbled thoughtfully. "Don't you think you two are moving kind of fast to make that declaration?"

This was the sketchy part Bonnie knew wouldn't go over so well. She wanted to be honest about her relationship with Damon. They exchanged 'I love yous' so there was little reason to keep their love or their relationship a secret. Hopefully, her mom would understand and wouldn't forbid her from seeing Damon once she learned how old he was. In a few months time, she would be a freshman in college no longer a senior in high school. That would have to count for something, right?

"We've known each other for a while. Nothing between us has happened overnight."

"Have I met him?"

"I don't think so but you've probably seen him."

Abby swallowed, "Who is he, Bonnie?"

"Would you like to meet him on Christmas?" the clever girl avoided answering the inquiry by posing one of her own.

"Oh, God," Abby lamented and suddenly felt very old. Her daughter was invariably growing up. In many respects she was a woman, but in her eyes, Bonnie was still that six pound bundle she brought home from the hospital. She cleared her throat. "Does he respect you? He's not pressuring you to do anything you're not ready to do?"

"He's been nothing but respectful and my…virginity is still intact." _For now. _

Abby heaved a sigh of relief. "I don't know how I feel about all this. You go from not having the time of day for a guy to saying out of the blue you're in love. This is going to take some adjusting. But…yes, I want to meet him. _Soon._"

"Okay. You're gonna love him."

"Yeah," Abby muttered in disbelief. That would remain to be seen. She turned off the light and left the room.

That conversation went much better than expected. However, selling her relationship to her mom and grandmother would be the hard part. No matter what the outcome might be, Bonnie wasn't going to give Damon up.

Once she was alone, Bonnie flew out of bed to turn the lock on her door. She also turned on her iPod home system to drown out any additional noise she might begin to make in the next ten minutes or so. Her mom and Grams volleyed between being light and heavy sleepers. The walls weren't paper thin, but muffled conversations could be heard. Bonnie knew she had to be careful.

Snatch, she whipped her silk scarf off her head, sprayed her neck with perfume, lathered her lips with gloss, and then twisted her body to and fro, preening in front of the mirror wondering if she should exchange her camisole top and pajama bottoms for a bra and a pair of boy shorts. No, she didn't want to lead Damon on. They crossed one hurdle. They still had a bit of a ways to go before anything physical could happen.

Bonnie strolled to the window to make sure it was still unlocked. She could be happy her home was one-level.

Getting back into bed she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Her eyelids decided they wanted to rest and before she knew it, she was sleeping.

The sound of something falling against a surface made her eyes spring open. And when they did the first thing Bonnie saw was an arm. A forearm to be more precise with a tattoo. Hey she knew that tattoo so that calmed her shock that the man in her bedroom wasn't your run-of-the-mill intruder. Leisurely her orbs traveled up the arm, gliding over the bulging bicep that was no stranger to her lips or fingers, to the shoulder. Bonnie skipped the face entirely wanting to save that for last, as her eyes headed south over a bare and chiseled torso that led to a tapered waist, and a trail of dark hair under the navel that led to mysteries hidden behind his dark jeans.

"Is there room in there for me?"

Bonnie looked up into Damon's shadow-covered face and wordlessly moved over in bed. Once he lay beside her, he didn't waste a minute pulling her into his arms, and kissing her recklessly and without censor.

It was always like this with Damon. He didn't like the word patience, abhorred it really, and did nearly everything as if he were a tidal wave.

Bonnie didn't have time to tell him to slow down or let her catch a breath. She was flipped on her back, and there was no ignoring the hard bulge poking her on the belly.

"Damon," Bonnie managed to wrestle her mouth away from his. "Wait…slow down…"

He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing harshly. "I'm sorry. I only seem to know two speeds with you: faster, and hurry the hell up."

They shared a laugh and then Damon dipped his head and touched his mouth to Bonnie's, not invading it with his tongue. Her legs rose to where her knees brushed against his hips and then her ankles locked right on top of his ass. His groan was one birthed out of lust, frustration yet also anticipation that one day they'll consummate their relationship.

Damon couldn't remember a time he had to wait for sex. Maybe not since _he_ was in high school. In college, he was never without a bed warmer. After college, he dated sporadically, but typically after the third date he lost interest and invariably moved on to someone else. Sex to him was a physical activity and release that if possible, he'd partake in everyday. He had to be _really _in love with Bonnie to stick with her for five months out of the six they've known each other and not pitch a fit she wasn't putting out.

Bonnie brushed his hair away from his forehead. "I'm sorry for making you wait. I know this is hard for you."

"I'm fine, Bonnie," Damon pecked her clavicle, then her shoulder, the top of her breast, lightly teased her nipple through her camisole top, and continued to head to her sweet below. "For once I have something to look forward to and…savor."

A sigh escaped her lips, she lifted her hips, felt the semi-warm air of her room hit her legs and bare bottom, and it was then an exercise of futility to muffle her screams.

Chapter end.

**A/N: Things will be getting very interesting the next update. I promise. Bonnie might just learn something's she didn't want to know but needs to know, and she might not be the only one to slowly start to unravel. Let me know what you think about anything that stuck out to you. The Abby/William flashback, the Bamon love confession, etc. Oh, and for those who might be confused, William Lockwood is not the guy who played Tyler's dad. I guess you can argue he's an original character, but there was a William Lockwood featured during an S2 flashback, but he's not who I have in mind to play that dirty bastard. But thank you, dolls for reading! Until next time, love you!**


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